Okay, Just a Little Bit More...
by She's a Star
Summary: Sequel to my fic, Just Friends-it makes sense on its own though. Ron and Hermione both don't attend the Yule Ball during their fifth year, and end up spending the evening together.


Okay, Just a Little Bit More...  
  
by She's a Star  
  
Disclaimer: HP belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling :)   
  
A/N: This is the long awaited (well, sort of) sequel to Just Friends, which I wrote way  
back this summer. I've tried countless times to write a sequel, but I couldn't for my life  
'till now. You don't HAVE to read Just Friends to get this, but it might make it make  
more sense. And I'd love your review :D Oh well....enjoy, and Merry Christmas to all you  
lovely readers out there :)  
  
~*~  
  
"I still can't believe you asked MY SISTER to the Yule Ball, Harry," fifteen year old Ron  
Weasley said in disgust, pulling a face. "I mean, that's just...wrong."  
"Ginny's all right, Ron," Harry replied, nervously running a hand through his black  
hair, then turning around. "Do I look all right?" he asked anxiously.  
"You sound like a girl," Ron replied dryly.  
"Oh, shut up," Harry said, laughing. "I just..."  
"You really like her, don't you?" Ron asked, trying desperately to hide his  
discomfort. That was just...weird.  
"She's all right," Harry repeated. "Well...I suppose I should go meet her. Are you  
sure you don't want to come?"  
"Somehow I doubt I'm a ball type of person," Ron replied. "Last time was awful."  
"But won't it be kind of, well, boring?"  
"Hermione'll be here too," Ron said, then silently cursed his ears as he felt them  
heat up.  
"Ooooh," Harry said knowingly. "I'd forgotten about that..."  
"Not that it matters," Ron added quickly. "You know...just someone to, you know,  
talk to. It'll be nice to just have company, you know. It's not like....well, you know, like  
THAT. We're just...you know."  
"Okay, you know, I, you know, should be, you know, going, you know," Harry  
said with a sly smile. "See you, you know, later, you know."  
"Shove off," Ron said crossly, throwing a pillow at the door as Harry exited.  
"Have fun, you know!" Harry called.  
"Git," Ron muttered under his breath as he picked up the pillow and put it back on  
Seamus Finnigan's bed. "This isn't some romance novel...me, fancy Hermione? He's  
MAD."  
Sure, he'd felt a bit...differently around Hermione lately, but that was nothing. She  
was...just Hermione.  
And yet it was strange...lately he'd been noticing things about her. Like how she  
had such a pretty smile, and how he loved the sound of her laugh, and that it really wasn't  
so bad when she chided him for not doing his homework.  
"Ugh, I have to stop thinking about this," Ron scolded himself. "She's JUST  
Hermione. And we're JUST friends."  
Well...  
Sort of.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hermione, I can't believe you're not going to the ball!" Parvati Patil exclaimed.  
"It's the event of the year, how can you possibly stand to miss out?"  
"I'd much rather stay here and read," Hermione replied. "I'm not in the mood for  
dancing."  
"That's too bad," Lavender Brown said coyly. "Because I'm sure Ron Weasley  
would have loved to ask you."  
Hermione felt her cheeks redden.   
"What?"  
"Oh, Hermione, it's SO obvious that you two fancy each other!" Parvati cooed as  
she put on one last coat of lip gloss. "Why don't you just admit it already?"  
"Admit WHAT?!" Hermione practically shouted. Honestly, could ANYONE be  
more ANNOYING? "I can be friends with boys without being secretly in love with them,  
you know."  
"Oh, we know," Lavender said. "It's obvious that you and Harry are just  
friends...but you and Ron, on the other hand-"  
"I'm sure Seamus and Dean are waiting," Hermione interrupted, her tone harsh.  
"Oh, we can't go down for three and a half minutes," Parvati explained after  
checking her alarm clock. "We've got to be fashionably late."  
"Wonderful," Hermione said dryly. "Well, I think I'll just go downstairs, then."  
And with that, she grabbed her beloved copy of Hogwarts, A History and left the  
dormitory as Parvati's voice echoed "You can't run away forever!" after her.  
Sure enough, Dean and Seamus were standing at the bottom of the staircase,  
checking their watches.  
"Wish they'd hurry up," Dean muttered.  
"Really," Seamus agreed, then spotted Hermione. "Hey, Hermione!"  
"Yes?"   
"Where are Parvati and Lavender?"  
"Busy," Hermione replied briskly as she sank down into a crimson armchair.  
"Doing what?"  
"Being fashionably late," Hermione explained, rolling her eyes.  
Dean and Seamus exchanged a bewildered look and muttered one word in unison.  
"Girls."  
"Ron sure is lucky, Hermione," Seamus said.  
"Why's that?" Hermione asked, getting the feeling that she didn't want to know the  
answer.  
"You don't do all that stupid girlie stuff like being fashionably late and stuff,"  
Seamus explained, then chuckled. "Wish we all could have sensible girlfriends like you."  
"ExCUSE me?" Hermione huffed. "WHY do you say that?"  
"Blimey, Hermione, it was a compliment!" Seamus exclaimed. "Sorr-y!"  
"No, I didn't mean it like that," Hermione said quickly. "It's just that...I'm not  
Ron's girlfriend!"  
"Really?" Seamus asked. "Could have fooled me."  
"Same here," Dean said. "You two are so obviously-"  
Hermione resisted the urge to perform Petrificus Totalus on the both of them and  
instead took very deep breaths in a desperate attempt to calm herself. Luckily, before  
Dean could finish the sentence, Parvati and Lavender appeared.   
Both boys' mouths dropped open at their appearances, and the four of them made  
their way out of the common room.  
"Thank goodness," Hermione murmured to herself. Normally, she liked Dean and  
Seamus, and could even usually tolerate Parvati and Lavender, but lately they'd all  
become convinced that she and Ron were meant to be.  
It was driving Hermione mad, to say the least.  
Oh well, she thought with a contented sigh. At least now I can just relax and  
read...no one's here but third years and below, and they don't even know Ron and I.  
Just as she was really beginning to get immersed in her favorite book, a group of  
giggling second year girls took the chairs next to her.  
Hermione tried to ignore them, until one of the girls mentioned something that  
made her completely lose interest in Godric Gryffindor's fiftieth birthday party.  
"I wonder if Ron Weasley went to the ball," one of the girls sighed. "I'd give  
anything to go with him! He's so adorable."  
"I know!" one of the other girls exclaimed.  
"He has a girlfriend, though, you know," a third girl said. "Some girl named  
Hermione Granger...you know, bushy hair, reads a lot, gets perfect marks."  
"Oh yeah," the first girl said glumly. "HER."  
Hermione felt her cheeks redden in anger. HONESTLY! Was EVERYONE  
convinced that she and Ron were destined for each other?  
Fury flooded through her as she stood up from the chair and disappeared into the  
girls' bathroom. She removed a towel from the wardrobe where they were stored, buried  
her face in it, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "I DO NOT LIKE RON WEASLEY!"  
To her surprise and utmost annoyance, a familiar voice replied. "That's not what I  
heard from Nearly Headless Nick."  
Hermione removed her face from the scarlet towel and turned around to see  
Moaning Myrtle, who wore a rare grin on her face.  
Even the GHOSTS are gossiping about us! Hermione thought crossly.  
"What are you doing here, Myrtle?" she asked.  
"The other bathroom got boring, so I decided to come over here and see if I found  
out anything about you and Ron," Myrtle explained.  
"Oh, really," Hermione said angrily. "Well, you needn't have wasted the trip.  
THERE IS NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN RON AND I! WE'RE JUST FRIENDS,  
AND ANYONE WHO THINKS OTHERWISE IS A STUPID, CLUELESS IMBECILE!"  
As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she knew she had been stupid to blow  
up at Myrtle. Her eyes immediately welled up with silver tears and she cried, "Well,  
excuse me for just asking you a question! I'll never do it again! You never yelled at any of  
the others....let's all just yell at Myrtle, because SHE'S dead, so SHE must not have  
feelings! Well, guess what, HERMIONE, I DO!"   
And with that, still sobbing, Myrtle disappeared into a stall and dived into one of  
the toilets.  
"Er...sorry, Myrtle," Hermione said weakly.  
  
  
~*~  
  
"Humm...whose could this be?" Ron murmured to himself as he discovered a  
copy of Hogwarts, A History abandoned on the chair next to his own.  
He took the book and flipped it open to find "Hermione Granger" written in neat  
cursive on the inside cover.  
"What a surprise," Ron smiled to himself, flipping through the pages. Even  
though he knew Hermione had read it at LEAST twenty times, the copy was still in  
perfect condition.  
"How very Hermione-ish," he muttered.  
"WHAT are you doing?" a voice behind him snapped.  
Ron turned around to find Hermione standing behind him, hands on hips and  
expression suspicious.  
"You abandoned your beloved Hogwarts, A History," Ron said in mock horror.  
"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"  
"Oh, shut up," Hermione said crossly. "And don't hold it like that, you're getting  
fingerprints on it."  
"Ooh, God forbid," said Ron dryly. "Getting fingerprints on Hogwarts, A  
History-it's practically a SIN! A brilliant work of art such as this shouldn't even be held  
by lowly slime like myself."  
"Precisely," Hermione's voice was still harsh, but Ron could tell she was holding  
back a smile.  
"Well, by all means, take it, then," Ron said, handing the book to her. She took it,  
studied the cover momentarily, and rubbed it off on her robes.  
"You're sad, you know that?" he asked with a chuckle.  
"At least I have a reading level that allows me to expand my horizons beyond  
Martin Miggs comics," Hermione retorted coolly.  
Ron glared at her. "Touchy, touchy...I was only joking."  
"I know, I'm sorry," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'm just not in the greatest mood."  
"Thanks for clearing that, I never would have guessed."  
The words were out of Ron's mouth before he could stop them, and he knew that  
he'd pay dearly for them.  
"Oh, I see there's no point in even talking to you tonight," Hermione exclaimed,  
throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "I'm just going to go up to bed. I-"  
A group of second year girls were watching them in fascination, and Ron glared  
at them. He could have been mistaken, but he thought he heard one of them sigh, "He  
looked at me!"  
"Sorry, Hermione," Ron said quickly as she turned to stomp off to bed. "Think a  
walk in the snow would calm you down a bit?"  
Hermione turned around and sighed again. "Maybe."  
"All right, then," Ron said, grinning. "Let's go."  
"I'm just going to go put this upstairs," Hermione said, holding up Hogwarts, A  
History.  
"Okay," Ron said, staring out the common room window at the large snowflakes  
that were falling from the sky. An evening walk seemed like a good idea...maybe it  
would help Hermione relax.  
It wasn't as if he cared that he'd once overheard Hermione say to Ginny that there  
was something extremely romantic about snow at night.  
Who cared about all that romance stuff, anyway?  
  
~*~  
  
"It really is lovely out here, isn't it?" Hermione said softly, closing her eyes and  
inhaling the cool, brisk air.  
"Yeah, I s'pose," Ron replied, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.  
"See, I told you you should have taken gloves," Hermione said, not able to resist  
putting the teeniest bit of haughtiness in her tone.  
"Well," Ron said, looking over at her. His warm brown eyes sported a devious  
glow, and Hermione instinctively took a few steps away from him. "I'll just have to take  
yours then."  
"Ron, NO!" Hermione exclaimed as Ron stepped closer to her. She stepped back  
further and stupidly held out her hands to keep him from getting at her. He immediately  
pulled off her gloves, which just so happened to be bright pink and two sizes too small  
for him.  
With a triumphant laugh, he slid them onto his hands, then waved his arms in the  
air victoriously.  
"You have no idea what an idiot you look like," Hermione said laughingly.  
"Yes, but I'm not the one with the freezing hands now, am I?" Ron asked  
devilishly, grinning at her.  
"Give me back my gloves, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione yelled, her voice echoing  
throughout the grounds.  
"But my hands could freeze, and then you'd have to live with the guilt!" Ron  
protested. "I'm doing this for you, Hermione."  
"Oh, I'm SURE," Hermione said, advancing on him. Grinning wickedly, she  
grabbed his wrists and was about to pull her gloves off when he suddenly fell backwards,  
dragging her along with him.  
And then, suddenly, her face was only inches from his. The very air had changed  
somehow...it felt like...well...magic. He was staring at her with such intensity that it felt  
as though she were looking at someone else...  
Not knowing what she was doing, Hermione closed her eyes and leaned a bit  
closer to him...closer...and then-  
WOOF!  
A loud, sharp bark echoed through the grounds, and immediately the magic  
disappeared from the air. Hermione's eyes opened quickly, and she muttered, "Sorry" and  
pulled herself off of Ron.  
"'s okay," Ron mumbled, sitting up and petting Fang, who'd just appeared next to  
them. He was sitting there perfectly happy, oblivious to what he'd just interrupted.  
Hermione stroked his ears, giving him a silent thank you. Imagine, if she and Ron  
had actually...well...kissed! It would make everything so horribly awkward. How would  
Harry feel?!  
"Faaaaang!" Hagrid's familiar voice called out.  
"He's over here with us, Hagrid!" Hermione called back.  
"All righ'," Hagrid yelled.  
Within a few moments, Hagrid appeared beside them.   
"Hello Ron, Hermione," he greeted them.  
"Hello, Hagrid," Hermione said, smiling.  
"Hi," Ron said, lifting up his hand in a wave. Hagrid eyed the pink glove  
suspiciously, but didn't say anything.  
"I'd best get him back inside," Hagrid said. "Merry Christmas, you two."  
"Merry Christmas," Ron and Hermione echoed.  
"We should probably head back to the castle," Hermione said after a moment of  
awkward silence.  
"Yeah," Ron agreed tonelessly.  
They walked in silence for a few moments, Hermione's hands tucked into the  
sleeves of her coat. However, her method wasn't very effective at keeping them warm.  
"Ron, give me my gloves back," she ordered.  
"Nope," Ron replied, an irritatingly cheerful smile on his face.  
"You don't want me to curse you, do you?" Hermione asked threateningly. "Now  
give me back my gloves!"  
"You don't have your wand," Ron reminded her.  
"Fine, be that way," Hermione said crossly. "But when my hands freeze, you'll be  
sorry..."  
They walked in silence for a few moments before Ron said, "Here."  
He pulled one of the pink gloves off of his right hand and gave it to Hermione.  
"Oh, thanks, Ron, now I'll only lose the hand I WRITE WITH," Hermione  
snapped.  
"Well, I write with my right hand, and you don't see me complaining!" Ron  
reminded her.  
"Yes, but your hand's still warm, you've been wearing gloves!" Hermione pointed  
out.  
"There's a very simple solution to all of this," Ron said.  
"Yes, I'm AWARE of that, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "You giving me back my  
glove."  
"No," Ron said. "This."  
He took her left hand in his right, and Hermione immediately felt her heart begin  
to beat twice its normal rate. She looked over at Ron and noticed right away that the tips  
of his ears were as red as the Gryffindor furniture.  
"Wouldn't want to break McGonagall's heart," Ron said. "After all, if you lost  
your hand to frostbite, she wouldn't ever get to read one of your brilliant essays again!"  
"Oh yes," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice casual. "I'm sure she'd never be  
the same again."  
Ron nodded, and the silence returned.  
Only this time it wasn't awkward.  
It was rather nice, actually.  
Hermione couldn't help but smile a bit as they made their way towards the castle.   
Kissing him would have been just...too much for her to take.  
But this was all right. They weren't jumping straight into a Seamus/Lavender  
relationship, but this was something.  
Okay, maybe they were just a little bit more than friends.  
  
~*~  
  
"So, Harry," Ron asked Harry that night as they prepared to go to sleep. "How was  
the ball?"  
"It was...nice," Harry replied. Ron could hear the smile in his voice.  
"Oh, really," Ron said teasingly. "You know...I still think it's just...not right for  
you to like my sister, you know, Harry?"  
"No," Harry moaned. "Not another 'you know' session."  
"Shut up," Ron said. "It's just that...you k-it's just that if you ever broke her heart,  
I'd probably have to beat you up. Then this friendship would pretty much be over, and  
that wouldn't be good. I mean, d'you really think that my baby sister, of ALL people, is  
worth that? Do..."  
Ron stopped talking as a low, even snore came from Harry's bed.  
"Fine, don't listen," Ron said. "But you know, I had a really nice time tonight too.  
It was worth not going to the ball...Hermione and I went on a walk, and...I almost kissed  
her, Harry-would have if that great bloody beast Fang hadn't shown up. And then we held  
hands walking back up to the castle. It was...nice, you know? I think there's really  
something there, Harry." Ron yawned, closed his eyes, and thanked the Lord that Harry  
was a sound sleeper.  
Ron, being a sound sleeper himself, drifted off right away, and didn't so much as shift in bed as Harry  
opened his eyes, grinned, and said something on behalf of all of Hogwarts school.  
"It's about time you noticed."  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
  
A/N 2: Soooooo, what'd you think? I don't think it was as good as the first one, but it was  
okay, right? *cricket....cricket* RIGHT? *cricket...cricket...* 


End file.
